Anybody who’s familiar with this blog will have gathered that I’m
manically compassionate about animals. The prospect of killing one, hurting
one, or causing one to suffer distress is, therefore, a source of horror to me.
But I had an infestation threatening to develop and needed to scotch it quickly
before the attention of a specialist would be required and wholesale, painful
death descend on a multitude of innocent creatures. It’s happened before and it
wasn’t very nice. This time the solution would be humane.
And so I laid out the money for the right equipment. I was patient
and observant. I exercised caution and intelligence in expectation of a
successful outcome, but something went wrong and two innocent young animals went
to a slow and stressful end. And there was nothing I could do to change it.
So where does that leave me? It leaves me languishing in a
pit of self-loathing, angry that life seems not to reward kindness. There won’t
be space for trivial matters on this blog today.
2 comments:
I'm sorry. I feel the same way about animals. It sounds like you did the best you could, and what else could you have done? Have you seen the episode of Hoarders where the man has (literally) thousands of rats in his house? It's not a great situation for either the human or the animals.
Still, I understand why it would make you feel terrible. RIP to the animals and hope you feel better soon.
It's at times like this, Mad, when I wish I were a normal human being. Causing suffering and death to an animal, albeit unintentionally, brings the onset of remorse so heavy that it's difficult to live with. It nags and haunts mercilessly. But thanks for the message. Much appreciated.
Post a Comment